


catch me i'm falling (flying headfirst into fate)

by AllTheNamesIWantedWereUsed



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Backstory, Bisexual Daisy Johnson, Character Death, Depression, F/M, Gen, Heavy Angst, Magic, Moral Ambiguity, Past Character Death, Pre-Relationship, Season/Series 05 Speculation, Self-Esteem Issues, Slow Romance, THERE IS PLOT, possible triggers may occur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2018-12-07 08:39:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11619951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheNamesIWantedWereUsed/pseuds/AllTheNamesIWantedWereUsed
Summary: Purely speculative S5 AU.The team is gone, and Daisy is alone, about to die.But not if Robbie Reyes has anything to say about it.





	1. walk with me

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from Next to Normal's "Make Up Your Mind/Catch Me I'm Falling"

The first time it happens, she hasn’t seen him in months, almost a year. She’s been on the run from the entire world, the rest of the team spread out to avoid collective capture. She’s been running from the whole world, alright, and it’s finally caught up with her.

 

This isn’t the worst way to die, she thinks, surrounded by Watchdogs in an abandoned warehouse in Seattle, in the middle of a really snowy winter. Her opponents are all least twice her size and weight and heavily armed. If she’s going to go down, this is the way to do it.

 

It’s the way she wants, going down fighting.

 

Still, she’s going to take as many of these sons of bitches with her as she can.

 

She unleashes a quake that makes them all stagger and sends pangs through her arms, and she makes her move one on of the ones who fall. Knocking the gun out of his hand and pulling him in front of her, he’s as good as a shield from the hail of bullets moving her way, but if she doesn’t keep going she’s dead.

 

She manages to take out a little over half of them before a bullet sinks into her shoulder and she stumbles. A Watchdog takes the opportunity to kick her legs out from under her and she hits the ground, landing on her back. She tries to get up, but one of the men plants a boot on her chest, cocking his rifle at her. She grins weakly up at him through blood-tinged teeth. Might as well go out smiling.

 

“You shouldn’t have come alone, Quake,” he spits at her.

 

“She didn’t.”

 

All the Watchdogs instantly turn to see the speaker, like the idiots they are, and she yanks the long barrel of the gun from the man weighing her down and shoots him the second he turns around. Scrambling to her feet, she sees none other than the Ghost Rider giving the Watchdogs hell, and a multitude of emotions floods through her, but she doesn’t have time to process them as yet another asshole levels a gun at her.

 

Between the two of them, it isn’t long before all the Watchdogs are dead or out cold, and she really doesn’t care about them.

 

The Ghost Rider crumbles away, and she’s looking at Robbie Reyes, standing there, chain in hand. A laugh bubbles out of her, giddy and hysterical with relief and incredulity.

 

“God, I’m glad to see you,” she says, and before she knows what she’s doing, her arms are already around him, though her wounded shoulder protests, her face buried into his chest. Her brain is surely going to rant at her later, but at the moment she’s being fueled by crap coffee and adrenaline, so she doesn’t really care. Luckily for her, he returns the embrace after recovering from his surprise.

 

He huffs a dry laugh, and his voice is rough when he says, “I missed you too, _chica.”_ He smells like smoke and oil, she can hear his heartbeat, and she never wants to let go, but she does it anyway because she doesn’t have a choice.

 

She pulls away, still smiling. He gives her a concerned once-over before tilting her chin up with his hand, brow furrowing at the bruises on her face. “You look like you just came back from hell,” he says, his eyes falling on the bullet hole in her jacket.

 

“Yeah, you’d know about that, wouldn’t you?’ she says, glancing around them. “I need to get out of here; the police are going to be all over this.”

 

“Not a problem.” He turns and the chain in his hand goes flying, spinning into a circle until sparks surround it, and when he drops his hand, there’s a portal, much like the one he stepped through before disappearing for months. Her stomach turns, expecting him to take off.

 

He turns back to her and jerks his head at the portal. “Come on, we’ll be safe there.”  She approaches the portal with a certain apprehension, however, still marveling at the fact that Robbie just magically created a portal out of nowhere. He said he’d learned a few new things, and he still has yet to explain what those things were and how he learned them...well, she has a lot of questions for him.

 

“Hey.” She turns to look at him. “You trust me, right?” he asks, and she nods in response.

 

He offers a hand. “Don’t stop now,” he says. She smiles softly and takes his hand.

 

“I won’t,” she says quietly.

 

She can’t say that her grip on his gloved hand doesn’t tighten when they walk through the portal, but she’s sure she’s only imagining it when his hold becomes a little firmer in response.

 

It’s like stepping over the threshold of a door, really, except that they’re crossing over into somewhere completely different.

 

Once they’re on the other side, Daisy has to tamp down her disappointment at the loss of Robbie’s hand, then glances around before being utterly confused. “What is this place?” she asks.

 

They’re standing in the living room of an old house, the corners covered in cobwebs and the faded rose pink wallpaper being clear signs. A chipped marble mantle frames a dark, unlit fireplace.

 

Before he can answer, a woman about her age strolls through the nearest door. “Oh, good, you’re back,” she says cheerfully to Robbie, her voice tinged with an accent similar to Simmons’(It makes Daisy’s heart ache for her friends). “What hap-hello, who are you?” She cranes her neck to look past Robbie, dark brown eyes focusing on Daisy.

 

“This is Daisy,” Robbie says. “Daisy, this is Imani; she’s a friend.”

 

“Oh, this is Daisy?” Imani says. “ _The_ Daisy?” she adds, looking pointedly at Robbie.

 

Too rattled to ask what she means by that, or even hear it,  Daisy stares at the woman in front of her, trying to process.

 

Imani is tall, with dark brown hair naturally woven into coils that bounce with every move, warm umber skin, and a perpetual cool grace to her movements and words.

 

“You look like hell, darling,” Imani says, moving closer but still keeping a respectable distance.

 

“Yeah, that’s because she was outnumbered twelve to one,” Robbie says. “We still have a good amount of first aid supplies?”

 

“Of course. Come with me, love, I’ll get you fixed up,” Imani says to Daisy, turning to leave the room. Daisy stands rooted to the spot.

 

“It’s alright, you know, we won’t hurt you.”

 

“I-I know, I just-” Daisy looks helplessly at Robbie, because her goddamn words aren’t working. The last time she followed a stranger, it didn’t end well.

 

“I’ll take care of it,” Robbie says, coming to her rescue. “Could you get Gabe and Elena?”

 

“Gabe and Elena are here?” Daisy asks as Imani nods and leaves, feeling relief swell in her chest, threatening to overcome her. She’s been looking for them _for months,_ worried out of her mind and beating herself up about it-

 

“Yeah,” Robbie says, steering her out of the room taking care to place a hand on her uninjured shoulder.

 

“Robbie, what is going on? What is this place, why are Gabe and Elena here, and where the hell have you been-”

 

“Daisy.”

 

That’s it. All it takes is her name, and she stops.

 

“I’ll explain everything,” he says, “Once you don’t look like you’re about to drop dead.”

 

She deflates a bit, trying to calm her nerves.

 

“Okay,” she says quietly.

 

“I have a feeling we _both_ need to explain some things,” Robbie adds.

  
Her stomach does a somersault, because yeah, she has a _hell_ of a lot of things to explain.


	2. catch me i'm falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me be completely honest with you guys: This chapter is pure filler.

Robbie has heard people say that Daisy is a surprisingly good at hiding things, especially injuries. He’s finding that hard to believe at the moment.

 

He and Imani weren’t kidding when they said she looked like hell. She looks like she’s been dragged through seven different dimensions and back. The sight of her makes him glad he killed most of those Watchdogs.

 

He’ll admit he wanted to find her, after all these months of trying to track her down, he just didn’t want to find her bloody and battered.

 

At least he didn’t find her dead.

 

He leads her through the house, and she stares at the cloudy windows and broken tiles,  too busy taking in the general rundown elegance of the safe house to notice his observation of her.

 

Her face is marred by bruises that stain her skin like spilled wine, and there’s a deep cut across her right cheek, the dried blood streaked like tears down her face. She’s favoring her left leg, and keeps her right arm close to her side as a result of the bullet in her shoulder, and her breathing is shallow, hinting at bruised or broken ribs. Her hair is different now too, a choppy shoulder length cut woven into a clumsy, mostly undone braid.

 

She eventually catches him looking at her, and she tries for a tight smile.

 

She almost died about ten minutes ago, and yet she’s the one acting like everything will be fine, and that grates on his already guilty conscience.

 

The first floor’s medical bay is down a narrow and tattered hallway, and she almost doesn’t make it there because she stumbles on a piece of torn rug, and falls, and it’s a good thing he’s there, otherwise he doesn’t think she’d get back up. He catches her halfway with an arm around her waist, and the wall does the rest of the job as her injured shoulder and back break the fall.

 

Expletives mingled with pained gasps fall from her mouth, her face contorted in a rictus grimace, eyes screwed shut. Her fingers dig into the sleeves of his jacket as she struggles to get back on her feet, and that’s when he sees the gashes on her knuckles.

 

_“Fuck-”_

 

“Easy, I’ve got you.”

 

Slowly, he helps her back into a steady standing position, her distressed sounds locked behind her clenched teeth interspersed with his murmured reassurances and apologies.

 

Eventually, she’s on her feet, albeit leaning with her back against the wall. His hands linger, because he’s unsure as to whether or not she’ll go down if he lets go, or at least that’s what he tells himself.

 

“Can you walk?”

 

“Yeah,” she manages to say, and he lets his hands drop to his sides, carefully walking next to her the rest of the way to the medical bay, warily waiting for her to go down again, which thankfully doesn’t happen.

 

The medical bay used to be a spare bedroom, but now next to the bed it has a cabinet stocked with supplies, a freezer for ice packs and a table for emergency operations, which to his gratitude, has only been needed once. He pulls a chair up next to the table, and she collapses into it, sucking in a breath through her teeth as she strips off her jacket, her simple black tank top revealing the bruises all the way down her arms and the hole in her shoulder, and there’s a new scar cutting across her collarbone.

 

He walks to the cabinet, pulling out bandages, antiseptic, pain meds and other supplies, then dumps an armload of them onto the table, before pulling up another chair and seating himself in it so that he’s facing her, cleaning off the suture needles.

 

She’s looking at him, rather intently at that, and he sees the shadows under her eyes and the weariness in her gaze.

 

“What’s with the hair?” she asks, gesturing vaguely at him, referring to the high guard fade Imani had given him. “You look like one of those dickish popular jocks that run around high schools nowadays.”

 

“Imani’s idea,” he explains while rolling his eyes, handing her an ice pack, which she presses to one of the darker bruises on her cheek. “Thought it might make me a little more unrecognizable if I ever went back home.”

 

“Her idea to lose the ‘stache too?”

 

“Nah, that was me. It got annoying,” he says, and she smirks.

 

“How long has that been going on?” she inquires, and elaborates at his look of puzzlement, “You and Imani, I mean.”

 

That throws him off, and he’s blank and silent as to what she means for a total of three seconds before it hits him.

 

Jesus, he’s an idiot.

 

“No, we’re not-it’s-we’re friends,” he says, sliding a few painkillers her way, and she doesn’t hesitate to swallow them dry.

 

“Ah, sorry. I just assumed-”

 

“Yeah, no. We’re not each other’s types, anyway,” he says, moving on to cleaning the tweezers next.

 

“Oh, you guys have types?” she says, raising an eyebrow. “What’s hers?”

 

“Not guys,” he answers.

 

“Oh, cool. What about you?” The corners of her lips turn up as she says,“What’s _your_ type, Reyes?”

 

Never in a million years is he going to answer that question truthfully.

 

“I don’t have one,” he replies.

 

“But it doesn’t include Imani?”

 

She’s joking, he knows, but he says, “What’s the point in being into someone you don’t have a chance with?”

 

The hypocrisy in that statement is ludicrous, even for him. Her gaze becomes a little cloudy, and her smile fades a bit as she says, “Yeah, good point.”

 

“You have a type?” he asks.

 

She gives him a dry grin, looking a little more cynical than average. “Yeah, I do.”

 

“You gonna tell me?”

 

“No,” she answers. “I’ll let you figure that out.” Her gaze flickers up to his haircut. “I take back the dickish part. You still look like a jock.”

 

“That’s real generous of you,” he deadpans.

 

“I know.” She winces as he presses gauze soaked in antiseptic to her shoulder, and just like that, the time for small talk is over.

 

“I’m going to try and get this out,” he says, gesturing to the bullet wound, and her features transform into a scowl.

 

“Fine,” she mutters, gathering her hair in one hand and holding it out of the way.

 

He puts a hand on her shoulder, steadying her as he tries to extract the bullet. Gritting her teeth, her head tilts backwards so that her gaze focuses on the ceiling, and he attempts to ignore her fingers curling around the seat of the chair, the dark bruises lining her throat and the way her breathing hitches while the tweezers grasp the bullet and start to pull it out.

 

A ragged sound comes out of her when he finally manages to pull it out of her shoulder, fresh blood welling up.

 

“You alright?” he asks.

 

“I’m great,” she replies sarcastically.

 

“Yeah, well, it’s not over, unfortunately,” he says, discarding the bullet, and picking up the suture kit.

 

She sighs. “Fuck.”

* * *

“So, Gabe and Elena are here?” Daisy says, securing a bandage wrapped around her bruised forearm, taking the wrist brace that Robbie hands to her.

 

“Yeah, we brought ‘em here sometime around-”

 

“March, yeah, I’ve been looking for them since,” she interjects, her tone almost accusatory.   


It’s November now, and he pauses, remembering Gabe saying that Daisy “was probably going to go ballistic” if he wasn’t there, how he’d realized at the time how that would look.

 

“We tried to figure out how to contact you, but you were pretty much untraceable, and Gabe didn’t know how to get ahold of you; he said he lost the...panic button?”

 

“Yeah, I found it in the couch cushions,” she answers, to which Robbie huffs a wry laugh in response.

 

“And Elena?”

 

“Picked her up about the same time. She said you hadn’t contacted her in ages, just showed up every once in awhile, said she hadn’t heard anything from Mack or the rest of the team.”

 

“I couldn’t leave trails or have patterns,” Daisy says. “I thought I’d fucked up big time when Gabe wasn’t at the house, or when I went to check on Elena; thought I’d been consistent enough that someone had finally caught on and-” She breaks off, shaking her head, and that’s when he sees her hands trembling a bit.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “We weren’t trying to freak you out, we just-”

 

“You wanted to protect them,” she finishes. “No, I get it, I...I was just afraid that someone had gotten to them and I’d failed again.”

 

Again?

 

“‘Someone’ being…?”

 

“Things have happened since you left,” Daisy says, the weariness shadowing her features again. “I’ve found some sensitive information, done things I’m not proud of by a long shot, gotten people hurt on accident...” She rakes a hand through her hair, wincing a bit. “I was trying to protect whoever was left,” she says simply, “I just...I didn’t know how to balance protecting them and making sure they were somewhat happy.”

 

“Seems like I was right, then,” he says. “We both have a lot to talk about.”

 

“Yeah. We should wait until the others are around though, because what I have to say might involve all of them.”

 

“Why is that?”

 

“You’ll see.”

 

Not only is that statement oddly cryptic, the way she avoids his gaze during the rest of the time they spend cleaning her injuries up is concerning, to say the least, and he can’t help but wonder what the hell Daisy has gotten herself into.


	3. go step by step into the darkness down there

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was almost really horribly angsty....but that's going to wait and come back a few chapters later

Daisy thought that maybe her nerves would ease up once she saw Elena and Gabe, that maybe seeing the people she’s been searching for over the months would stop the very pissed-off butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

 

She realizes now that she was completely wrong in thinking that as Robbie leads her up the  creaky wooden stairs and into a new room where the walls are a muted green and the floor is covered in a ratty brown carpet.

 

The first person she sees is Elena, who practically runs up to her, a smile on her face that fades a bit as she takes in Daisy’s beaten appearance.

 

“Is it alright to hug you?” she asks warily.

 

“Yeah, just mind the right shoulder and the ribs,” Daisy says, a request Elena heeds. “It’s good to see you, Yo-Yo.”

 

“We’ve all been so worried,” Elena says. “No one has been able to find you.”

 

“I could say the same for you,” Daisy replies. “That goes for you too, you know.”

 

Her addendum is directed at Gabe, who sits in his wheelchair by the window next to where Imani stands, and he smiles innocently.

 

“Aw, were you worried about me?” he teases.

 

“I was a basket case,” she says, her tone light though her words not far from the truth. “And really? Panic button was _in_ the couch cushions; how did that happen?”

 

He shrugs. “Magic?”

 

She rolls her eyes. “What am I going to do with you?” She’s beyond glad that she and Gabe have buried the hatchet, because the first few months she’d been checking on him had been _brutal,_ and it’s nice to have finally moved past all that.

 

“Love me like the angel I am,” Gabe replies loftily.

 

She scoffs, and her ribs protest. “Angel? Yeah, okay.”

 

“You look a little better now,” Imani says, “But still like someone’s been using you as a punching bag.”

 

“Nothing a shit ton of makeup can’t fix,” Daisy replies. “Speaking of which, would it be possible to go back to my last safe house and grab my stuff?”

 

“We already got it,” Robbie says. “Before I found you, Imani and I tracked you down to your last location and got everything. Imani took your stuff back here and I went to get you.”

 

“...Oh. That’s convenient; how’d you manage that?” Daisy asks.

 

“Remember the last time I saw you, said I’d learned some things?”

 

“Yeah,” Daisy says, remembering everyone’s reaction Robbie being able to create an interdimensional portal out of thin air.

 

“Imani taught me all that, so she can do all the things I can, just better.”

 

“Oh, so she can do the spinning fiery portal thing too?” Daisy says, looking at her newest acquaintance with a renewed interest.

 

“Yes,” Imani says. “And many other things too, things Robbie is still learning,” she adds with a teasing grin.

 

“Is he a difficult student?”

 

“I’ve had worse.”

 

Daisy smiles, thinking that Imani could be a very easy person to like.

 

“Between these three, I’ve heard quite a lot about you. It’s nice to meet the face behind the legend,” Imani says, gesturing to the others in the room.

 

“I’m not much of a legend,” Daisy replies with a self-deprecating grin.

 

“That’s what all they say,” Imani counters, a knowing glimmer in her eyes. “So tell us, love, what have you been up to these past months?”

 

“Yo-Yo, how much did you tell them about the team?” Daisy asks.

 

“I told them that we went out to eat, got picked up by those very rude agents and that the rest of the team is off in space for their protection,” Elena replies. “I think they wanted to hear your version of it, though.”

 

“Not much else to hear,” Daisy says. “They didn’t do anything to us, no torture or threats or whatever. Just took everyone else and blasted off into space.”

 

“But how?” Gabe asks. “There’s no way no one saw a freaking space ship take off.”

 

“It’s like I’ve said: secret agencies can do just about anything,” Elena says.

 

“Elena also said that they left you guys behind because you were Inhumans,” Robbie cuts in.

 

“Elena isn’t in as much trouble as I am, but yeah. My problem is that I’m an Inhuman fugitive who was seen putting a bullet through the brain of a U.S. general in front of a bunch of world representatives,” Daisy says. “Even if it wasn’t really me, no one will believe the LMD theory because we destroyed all the others, so there’s no proof to back me up. The agency that picked us up, whoever they were, said that if word ever got out that they’d helped me or any Inhuman, they’d be as screwed as SHIELD.”

 

“And they abandoned us,” Elena added. “Left us to our own devices with no help or money or anything. Daisy hacked into a few billionaires’ bank accounts, took what we needed, and then we went our separate ways. Of course, because _someone-”_ she gave Daisy a pointed look, “decided that I was better off if I was as far away from her as possible, I rarely heard from her.”

 

“Yeah, being associated with an international terrorist tends to give you a lot of trouble,” Daisy says. “A bunch of different agencies are after me, including several world governments and a few third parties. That’s why it’s so hard to find and contact me. I’m trying not to lead anyone to people I care about, but I’m also trying to make sure those people are okay. It’s-it’s been hard trying to get the balance right.”

 

“That’s why your visits were so random?” Gabe says.

 

“Yeah, it’s also why I couldn’t stay for very long.”

 

“So you’ve been all alone, this whole time?” Elena says. “Not traveling with anyone?”

 

Daisy felt a small flicker of panic, but pushed it down and did one of the things she did best and lied through her teeth.

 

“Yeah, pretty much. I’ve been trying to avoid everyone, especially since somebody, don’t know who, set the Watchdogs on my ass with a bounty. That’s what was going on when Robbie showed up; they’d caught me off guard.”

 

“You really haven’t run with anyone long-term? At all?” Robbie says, and she makes the mistake of turning to face him, and one look at the steel in his gaze tells her that he knows she’s lying.

 

“There’s no one safe enough to run with,” she replies, holding his stare. “I can’t trust anyone, and I can’t risk anyone getting hurt.”

 

“That sounds horrible,” Elena says.

 

“Yeah, it was,” Daisy says, turning her attention elsewhere. “But I’m here now-” she glances over at Robbie, “-and that’s good.”

 

“That is good,” he says, softening a bit, but there’s still a wariness lingering in his expression.

 

“I do need to go, though,” Daisy says, wincing at the way faces fall around the room.

 

“You just got here,” Robbie says, “And you’re injured.”

 

“He’s right; you can’t leave,” Elena says disbelievingly.

 

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate all the help, but I have things I need to fix and you aren’t safe here with me, anyway.”

 

“This house was my great-grandfather’s,” Imani says, “And it’s being protected by magic thousands of years old. We’re all quite safe, love. If you need help, however, it can be given-”

 

“No,” Daisy says, shaking her head. “I don’t need help, just anonymity.”

 

“Daisy,” Elena says gently, “You don’t need to keep pushing people away-”

 

“If there’s anything I’ve learned over the past two years, Yo-Yo, it’s that a lot less people would be hurt if I stayed away.”

 

“You were getting so much better,” Elena says, looking at her sadly. “And then the team was gone and-”

 

“I wasn’t getting better, I was being lured into a false hope. There’s a difference,”  Daisy says tersely. “Everyone leaving proved that.”

 

“You _were_ getting better!” Elena says hotly. “You do this every time, don’t you? You were healing, Daisy, and if you let people help you whenever you get hurt like that-”

 

“What the hell do you mean, ‘every time?’” Daisy replies angrily. “Lincoln? Hive? What exactly are you referring to here-”

 

“I understand you want to leave, Daisy,” Imani’s voice, calm and gentle, cuts through the tangible tension, “But as someone who has spent years as a doctor, I have to insist you remain here until all your injuries are completely healed.”

 

“I don’t have that kind of time-”

 

“Daisy, you should stay.”

 

Gabe silences the room with those four words.

 

Everyone looks at the boy in the wheelchair, who stares at Daisy with the same intensity as the night he told her to leave and never come back.

 

God, how things have changed.

 

“You said you needed to fix things,” Gabe continues. “It sounds to me like there’s a lot you can fix here, to start.”

 

There’s nowhere she can turn, everywhere she looks, there’s a face, all asking for the same thing.

 

“You’re only one person, Daisy,” Robbie says, picking up where Gabe left off. “Stick around; we can help.”

 

And goddamnit, she can’t say no to both of them.

 

She can’t avoid the questions he undoubtedly has for her, and there’s no way to avoid everyone else’s, either. She realizes, bleakly, that she doesn’t even know where this house is located, and it’d be a terrible idea to run into unfamiliar environment.

 

With a resigned sigh, she says, “Fine.”

 

The relief those in the room display sends a pang through her chest, makes her eyes sting and her throat close up and God, she really needs to get out of here, away from the questions and the pleas and the sad gazes-

 

“Imani, I’m going to show Daisy where her stuff is.” Robbie’s voice slices through the fog, and his hand settles on her uninjured shoulder, and panic turns Imani’s response into static.

 

It’s out of the frying pan and into the fire, really, but she lets him lead her away anyway, because at least the fire might be able to understand more than the rest of them.

 

Neither of them say a word until they reach ‘her room,’ her duffel bag and laptop case already sitting on the small bed, and seeing the small space that was set up for her racks up the guilt she already feels about being here as she apprehensively steps into the room.

 

“Hey.”

 

She tenses as she turns to face him, but all he does is lean against the doorframe, studying her from less than a foot away.

 

“I don’t know why you lied,” he says, “But I’m assuming there’s a reason for it, and I just want to know if this secret you’re keeping is going to hurt anyone here.”

 

She shook her head. “No,” she says, her voice rasping the answer.

 

“Okay,” he says. “You’d tell me if that changed, right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

He edges off the doorframe, and his gloved thumb brushes across her cheek, wiping away the few tears that have escaped.

 

“Get some sleep,” is all he says before disappearing down the hall and leaving her alone with her secrets and painful memories.


	4. please hear me calling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More filler bc it's taking forever to get to the actual plot

Daisy isn’t sure how long she’d been awake for when Robbie had picked her up, but she knows it had been at least thirty-six hours. Needless to say, when she curls up on the bed provided for her, only bothering to kick off her boots and not even trying to pull up the blanket or push off her bags, she’s out the second her head hits the pillow, giving her no time to ruminate on the day’s happenings.

 

Thankfully, her mind gives her a rest, and she sleeps soundly with no dreams. 

 

When she wakes up the next morning, however, with sunlight streaming through the cracked and hazy window, illuminating the dust in the air and old wooden floorboards, she has plenty of time to  blink her eyes open and process the last twenty-four hours.

 

Her ribs scream at her as she forces herself to get up, and she's already on her feet and partially dressed when she finally reminds herself that there's nowhere to run, no other safe house to get to, just here. 

 

And this is all because Robbie swung in and saved her outnumbered and idiotic ass from the Watchdogs hired to kill her, then brought her to an old house owned by some kind of kickass sorceress, where apparently the two people she’d been searching for over the course of eight months were also living. 

 

She finds it a little sad that this couldn’t even be considered for the top five weirdest things that have  happened to her over the last five years.

 

Still, restlessness shivers down her spine, and she feels it again now, the constant need to move born from undiagnosed anxiety and a routine of running from place to place, never lingering at any one location for long, unless…

 

Unless she has a reason to stay. 

 

She has lots of reasons to stay here, but they're also all the same reasons she needs to leave. With a sigh, she checks her phone, hidden in the recesses of her duffel bag, which blinks up the time at her: _ 10:24 A.M.  _  She curses at herself; she isn't supposed to sleep this late. 

 

She finishes getting dressed, shoves her phone in her pocket and wanders downstairs, the old house completely foreign to her with no Robbie to guide her through all the rooms. The muscles in her entire body protest with every move, but she powers ahead and continues her examination of the house. 

 

Eventually, she drifts into a room that looks a bit more modern than the rest of the house: a kitchen with a stainless steel fridge, separated from a long table by a bar complete with stools. 

 

“Oh good, you're up.” Daisy turns her head to see Imani at the counter, cutting up various fruits. 

 

“There's coffee in that pot over there,” Imani says, not looking up from the apple she's slicing paper thin, but gestures with her knife momentarily. “Mugs are in the cabinet over it, the sugar is in the ceramic blue jar and there's cream in the fridge if you need it.” 

 

With some trepidation, Daisy approaches said coffee pot, retrieves a mug from aforementioned cabinet and pours a steady stream of dark brown into the cup. Stirring sugar into it, there's a feel of normalcy to her actions, which unsettles her because normal for her has only ever been...well, abnormal. 

 

“You don't have to be so nervous,” Imani says. “I won't bite, and you already know everyone else.” 

 

“How do you-”

 

“Know that you're nervous? I'm an empath, darling, I can feel what you're feeling. Well, that and you're surprisingly readable.” Imani turns away from her fruit, leaning against the counter to face Daisy. “You're a bundle of nerves at the moment.” 

 

“Is it bothering you?” Daisy asks. 

 

“No, I’ve learned to control how others’ emotions affect me. It is a little worrying that you walk around with all that anxiety; have you ever considered breathing exercises?” 

 

“I-no.” Daisy takes a sip of coffee, and it scalds her tongue and burns all the way down her throat, but there's something grounding about the pain. “Are you Inhuman?” 

 

“No, the empath bit is just something I have. Some people are just born with gifts...or curses in some cases. It just happens. I have known some Inhumans, but I haven't seen them in years.”

 

There's something about Imani that's surprisingly calming, and that puts Daisy on edge, because Jiaying was like that too, and look what happened there. 

 

That upsets her, too, because she wants to like Imani. 

 

“Um, where’s everyone else?” she says, to change the subject. 

 

Imani looks thoughtful. “Well, Elena’s usually still asleep at this time of day, Gabe is probably on his computer, and Robbie should be down here any moment after practice.”

 

“Practice?” Daisy echoes, taking another burning sip of coffee.

 

“When you learn the kinds of things I teach, it requires an immense amount of concentration and practice to perfect them. Sometimes it's better to perfect your techniques away from distractions.” 

 

“I think that's the only thing that makes sense about all this magic stuff,” Daisy says. “How did you find Robbie, anyway?”

 

“I found him during one of my travels through other worlds, right after all that nasty business with his uncle,” Imani explains. “He wanted to get back home as soon as possible, so I helped him learn how.” 

 

“And you're teaching him other things now?” At Imani’s nod, Daisy asks, “Like what?”

 

“Basic healing skills, some combative things, that sort of thing. It's best to start small before going to the big things.” Imani turns back to cutting fruit. 

 

“Thanks for letting us all crash here,” Daisy says, because even if she doesn't want to be here, this is Imani’s house, and besides, she's giving refuge to Gabe and Elena as well, something Daisy never could give them. Giving thanks feels overdue. 

 

“I haven't had guests in years,” Imani says, “This is honestly such a fantastic change. Gabe is such a smart young man and Elena is wonderfully funny; they really balance out Robbie’s antisocial behavior.” She looks over her shoulder to smile at Daisy. “I'm excited to see what kind of guest you'll be.” 

 

Daisy smiles back, and it only feels a little bit forced. 

 

“Do you have any questions about where to find things in the house? There aren't any ominous, off-limits rooms or anything like that, and I know this place like the back of my hand.”

 

“A map to all the bathrooms might come in handy,” Daisy jokes.

 

Imani gives a small laugh. “Gabe said something rather similar when he first came here. You two seem to get along well.”

 

“You'd be surprised,” Daisy says. “He used to hate me.” 

 

“Really? I would never have guessed. Was that the case even after Robbie asked you to look after him?” 

 

Between the months of Gabe, Elena and Robbie, with plenty of calm and time to talk, it shouldn't surprise her how much Imani knows, but Daisy is still a little thrown by all the information the other woman has. 

 

She doesn't have to answer because that's when Robbie walks in, and Imani greets him, distracted so that Daisy doesn't need to say another word. 

 

Remembering their exchange from the previous night, she intends to avoid Robbie’s gaze until he leaves, a plan that's foiled when he pours himself a cup of coffee and leans against the counter less than two feet away. She scowls into her mug as Imani asks him how the morning training went.

 

The technical aspects of their weird magic shit is completely lost on her, and she wishes she had her laptop in hand, or that the conversation would be steered in a different direction. 

 

She gets the second wish, or a warped version of it as Imani says, “Robbie, do you think you could show Daisy around the house today?” 

 

“Sure,” he answers, and Daisy can feel his eyes on her. She risks flicking her gaze up to meet his, and he has the same analytical look he did the night before, intent and trying to coax answers out of her. 

It brings up certain emotions that she hasn't really felt since Lincoln, feelings she's been trying to push down since the business with Morrow, and it irritates her. 

 

She's relieved that he and everyone else are okay, of course, but dreads the explaining she has to do later and the fact that every second she's here endangers them. 

 

She lets her gaze drift over to Imani, who watches both of them like she's waiting to see what happens. It reminds her of how Simmons would look during an intense experiment. 

 

Her stomach twists as she recalls that Imani is an empath, undoubtedly detecting arisen emotions with Robbie’s entrance. 

 

She's distracted by her phone buzzing in her pocket, and pulls it out. She receives sixteen texts over the course of three minutes, all from one of her contacts, one she was supposed to have met with twenty minutes ago. 

 

_ Where are you?  _

_ You better not have ditched me _

_ Damnit Skye where are you?  _

_ Did you sell me out? _

_ I bet you did _

_ Bitch  _

 

She grimaces at her phone, before typing a response with one hand, the other gripping the handle of her mug a little tighter. 

 

**_Something came up I'm not coming sorry to waste your time_ **

 

_ What? _

_ Where the fuck are you? _

_ You can't just skip a meeting _

 

**_I got compromised. Can't meet you rn_ **

 

Her phone starts blowing up, demands for answers mixed with various insults lighting up her phone screen. With a disgusted sigh, she mutes all messages coming from the number. 

 

“Everything okay?” 

 

Daisy glances up at Robbie, who looks at her with a raised eyebrow, setting his coffee cup down.

 

“Yeah, I just...I was supposed to meet someone today, and now he's pissed.” She rolls her eyes and stuffs her phone back in her pocket. 

 

“Do you need us to take you to meet him?” Imani asks. 

 

“No, but thanks. He's an asshole, so I'm not too torn up about-” 

 

Her phone starts ringing. With an aggravated sigh, she excuses herself and answers it with an annoyed,  _ “What?”  _ as she walks out of the room, leaving an almost empty mug behind.

* * *

 

“She's interesting,” Imani says when Daisy has walked into the other room, shutting the door behind her as Robbie watches her leave. “I can see why you're so fond of her.” 

 

He doesn't even bother denying it, because there's no point in trying to lie to Imani, just like there's no point in lying to him. The Rider tells him every untruth people say and Imani can feel dishonesty from a mile away. 

 

“She's so sad, though,” Imani goes on. “Nothing but variations of anxiety, sadness, guilt...she reminds me of you.” 

 

“Yeah?” Robbie says, tearing his eyes away from the doorway Daisy disappeared through. “You haven't felt anything else from her?”

 

“Relief that everyone is safe, but that's about it.” 

 

He only nods, his mind mulling over the previous night.

 

“What are you hoping I feel from her?” Imani says softly. 

 

“I stopped hoping for anything a long time ago,” he says in lieu of an answer, picking up his coffee cup. 

 

“Come on, love,” she says. “Don't let your demons take hope away. You'll let them win if you do.” A gentle smile graces her features as she says, “I know how much you hate to lose. Don't lose the wish for better times.”

 

He hates to admit that she's right. Imani, his teacher turned friend, reverts to her advisory nature with ease every time, whether or not he wants her wisdom. 

 

“She's getting angrier, most likely at the person on the phone, perhaps you should go check on her?” Imani says, glancing at the doorway Daisy left through. 

  
She doesn't need to tell him twice, and within seconds he's already in the other room, feeling Imani’s gaze following him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...thoughts?


	5. a hall that you know

She’s already hung up when he enters, but her knuckles are white as she grips the phone in her hand and her brow is furrowed in annoyance.

 

“Everything okay?” he asks, and she looks up at him, her features slowly losing their rigidity as she takes him in.

 

“Yeah,” she replies. “I just…” She gestures aimlessly. “I have a mess to clean up, is all.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I was supposed to meet a contact today, but I never showed up and now he’s pissed-” She rolls her eyes.

 

“Sorry,” he says, since he’s the one who pulled her out of her location, but she waves away his apology.

 

“Even if you hadn’t shown up, I wouldn’t have been able to meet him, I’d have been compromised, and since he likes to lay low, I don’t think he’d have liked it if I came with the Watchdogs on my tail.” Her features cloud a bit as she says, “Well, I wouldn’t have shown anyway, I’d have been...you know, dead.” There’s a tension then, almost tangible as she fiddles with the phone in her hand. “But I’m not, so that’s good, I guess.”

 

“That is good,” he says, finding himself repeating the same words as the night before.

 

“And I have you to thank for that,” she says with a wry smile.

 

“Nah,” he brushes it off, “How would we ever be able to give Coulson a front-row seat to us kicking ass if we’re missing the better half?”

 

She laughs, soft and genuine, and he finds himself wishing he had ways to make her laugh like that more often as she says, “Good point.”

 

Silence falls between them, neither one of them attempting to meet the other’s gaze, and then he feels it. A small flicker of guilt, coming from her, detected by the Rider (as all guilt and sin is), a flash of contrition that stands out from her normal self-deprecation.

 

“Listen, Robbie,” she starts, and he wonders if she’s about to tell him what last night was all about.

 

“I-I know you’ve done a lot for me already, and I’m _never_ going to be able to make up for it, but…” She cringes a bit as she says, “Can I ask a favor?”

 

“Sure,” he replies, a bit disappointed that he wasn’t getting any answers.

 

“Well-” she cuts herself off, hesitating. “I...wasn’t being completely honest when I said I’d been alone the whole time.”

 

“No shit,” he deadpans.

 

She rolls her eyes at his sarcasm. “Anyway, I’ve been traveling with this one person, a kid, really.”

 

“A kid?” he echoes.

 

“They’re Inhuman,” she explains. “I found them when I was busting a human trafficking ring, and they didn’t have any family, so I figured, what the hell.”

 

“So where are they now?”

 

“That’s where the favor comes in. I didn’t know if I was going to come out of Seattle alive,” she admits. “So I left them with a friend, said I’d get them when I was done, left instructions in case I didn’t.”

 

“You want to bring them here,” he says, connecting the dots.

 

She stuffs her hands in her pockets. “Yeah.”

 

“I can do that,” he says. “You want to go now?”

 

She looks up at him. “Seriously?”

 

“Yeah,” Robbie says. “I don't think Imani will mind, but do you want to check with her first?”

 

“That's a good idea,” Daisy agrees.

 

“C’mon, then,” he says, and she falls into step next to him, looking a little less anxious.

* * *

 

It's easier going through the portal this time, and as Daisy steps through, her feet land onto lush grass rather than hard marble. A little ways away, maybe about ten yards, is the house, small and cottage-like.

 

“So who's the friend you left them with?” Robbie asks her as they make their way to the door.

 

“She's from my hacker days with the Rising Tide,” she answers. “Sage is cool, and I trust her.”

 

Daisy taps out the coded knock onto the faded wood of the door, feeling the anxiety clenching her heart relax as Percy opens the door, dressed in ripped jeans and a flannel shirt over a black tank top. Their usual raven mass of close-knit curls is tied back, the sun free to shine on their rose-tinged, dark brown complexion. They smile at first seeing Daisy, though their expression melts into concern as they appraise her weary appearance.

 

“What happened to you?” they demand.

 

“I looked worse yesterday,” Daisy jokes, but Percy’s gaze falls on Robbie and their eyes widen.

 

“Oh my God,” they say. “You’re-”

 

“Robbie, this is Percy Ramírez,” Daisy introduces him. “Percy-”

 

“Gabe’s brother,” Percy says. “I recognize him from the pictures.” They offer a hand to Robbie, who takes it, albeit a bit warily. “It’s nice to meet you.”

 

“Likewise,” Robbie says.

 

“Well, if you’re back, does that mean that Gabe-?”

 

“Gabe’s safe,” Daisy assures them, and they smile.

 

“Good. I- _We_ were worried,” Percy gives Daisy a mock glare at her knowing grin.

 

“Is Sage here?”

 

“I am,” says a voice from behind Percy, who steps aside to reveal Sage Akiyama, with her dark eyes and darker hair.

 

“Percy been good for you?” Daisy asks, smiling at probably the only ex she's still on good terms with.

 

“They've been the perfect guest,” Sage replies. “I'm assuming you're here to pick them up?”

 

Daisy nods. “Thank you so much for letting them stay here, Sage,” she says earnestly.

 

“Anything for an old friend,” Sage says, her eyes twinkling at her own double meaning. “Why don't you and your friend come on in while Percy packs up their things? I've got coffee going.”

 

Neither Daisy nor Robbie are inclined to decline Sage’s offer, and once the introductions are done with they step inside, and though it doesn't seem like it, the crossing of the threshold marks a turning point in a war that's been going on forever.

* * *

 

“Holy shit,” Percy breathes as they step into the front room of Imani’s house, and Daisy isn't sure if they're blown away by the house or the portal.

 

Either way, she can't blame them.

 

Imani sweeps into the room, elegant and warm. “You must be our new guest,” she says genially to Percy, extending a hand, “Welcome. My name is Imani.”  

 

Percy shakes it, an awestruck smile spreading over their face. “I'm Percy. This place is beautiful,” they say, head turning in an attempt to capture the full splendor of the house.

 

“This was my grandfather’s estate; he’d be proud to hear you say that,” Imani replies, returning their smile.

 

“Thanks again for letting us crash here, Imani,” Daisy says, putting a hand on Percy's shoulder.

 

Imani’s “Of course” is lost as Elena, then Gabe, come into the room now, stopping short with his expression shifting into shock at the sight of Percy.

 

“Percy?”

 

“Gabe!” Percy's hair flies out behind them as they run across the room, arms wrapping around him in a hug. It's hard to miss the relieved smile on Gabe’s face as he returns the other's embrace.

 

As if remembering their audience, Percy pulls back, face flushed. “I- it’s good to see you,” they say.

 

“Yeah, you too,” Gabe says, seeming a bit breathless in the way that seeing someone can knock the wind out of one's lungs.

 

Imani suggests that they celebrate, and as everyone files out of the room, Daisy's filled with an urgency that berates her forgetfulness. She inches forward, catching Percy as they make to follow Gabe out of the room.

 

“No one knows about Eris,” she says quietly, just loud enough to register, “Can we keep it that way?”

 

Percy's chin dips, ever so slightly, a bit of the light in their eyes leached out, indicating that they've heard her request. Daisy pulls back, letting them leave, and glances a ways behind her.

 

Robbie stands there, brow creased and she knows he's onto her a little more.


	6. admit what you've lost

_ “You’re prettier in person.”  _

 

_ Daisy turned in her seat to see a woman with flaming red hair and dark brown eyes smiling at her, close enough that the cloying scent of perfumed roses seemed to curl around her.  _

 

_ “May I sit? We do have a business to attend to, after all,” the woman says, smiling winningly.  _

 

_ It clicks in Daisy’s mind then, this must be Carlos’ contact.  _

 

_ “Be my guest,” she answers, and the woman seems to glide onto the stool next to her, setting a clutch purse on the bar next to her. She’s wearing a dress, black and short with thin straps strategically weaved and placed over skin to create quite the femme fatale look. _

 

_ “How have you been, Daisy?” _

 

_ “No offense, but I’d like to get down to business,” Daisy says. _

 

_ “Of course, of course. I can see why Carlos enjoys your patronage; it must be so refreshing for him to have someone who knows what she wants. Perhaps we’re alike in that sense,” the other woman says warmly.  _

 

_ “Does he have the information I need?” Daisy says, attempting to not get distracted as the woman’s hand curls around her knee.  _

 

_ “Naturally, flower. Carlos doesn’t like to disappoint his clientele.” The woman unfolds the flap of the clutch purse, pulling out a small drive and sliding it across the bar. Daisy picks up the small black rectangle, turning it over in her palm. _

 

_ “I imagine the Watchdogs will have their hands full with you over the next few months,” the woman says, leaning forward, the scent of roses more prevalent than ever.  _

 

_ “Carlos told you about them?” Daisy says, stiffening.  _

 

_ “I may have gotten a little nosy,” the woman admits. “Still, it’s nice to know that I’m not alone in my cause. Perhaps you and I can do some business as well.” Her nails, close-cropped and immaculately manicured, trace a path down Daisy’s jawline.  _

 

_ “We could talk about it,” Daisy concedes. “I don’t suppose you know a place more private?”  _

 

_ The woman smiles. “Of course, flower. Come with me.”  _

 

_ “I never caught your name,” Daisy says as they both rise from their seats, making a mental note to shoot Percy a text to let them know she was going to be late.  _

 

_ “It’s Eris, darling.” _

* * *

 

"Now that we’re all together, I think it’s important we talk business,” Imani says, running a finger round the rim of a wineglass, looking regal as she sat at the head of the dining table. Her voice cuts through the conversations going on, though the only people not chattering away are Daisy and Robbie. Daisy sits next to Percy as they talk to Gabe, filling each other in on the past months (though Percy is careful to exclude certain details), smiling tightly but saying little. Robbie watches her, deep in thought. 

 

He’d heard only a single word during her aside with Percy, but Daisy didn’t know that. A name, it had sounded like.

 

Eris. 

 

He didn’t know what it meant, but it was something. 

 

At Imani’s soft but firm statement, all fall silent. 

 

Except for Daisy, who speaks up. 

 

“What business?” 

 

“You’ve all taken refuge here,” Imani answers. “I am more than happy to have guests in my home, but you are all here because something threatens you. Persecution, a jail sentence, whatever it may be. Still, there is one thing that connects all of you.” She pauses for a moment. 

 

“I am, of course, referring to the Darkhold.” 

 

“I thought Robbie destroyed it,” Daisy says, shooting him a confused look. 

 

“He did,” Imani says simply. “However, Elena’s arrival gave me a revelation, especially upon learning about the Watchdogs.”

 

“They were working with AIDA, or at least, Ivanov was,” Daisy agrees. “And Ivanov had the Darkhold but if it’s destroyed, I don’t understand how it’s still a problem.” 

 

“When Robbie, Coulson and Fitz got sucked into the other dimension, May had AIDA read the Darkhold so she could get them out,” Elena interjects. “She downloaded the Darkhold into her-ah-damn, what’s the word-” 

 

“Mainframe?” Gabe supplies. 

 

“Yes, that,  _ gracias _ ,” Elena says. “And when she was working with Ivanov, who is now an LMD-”

 

“Ivanov downloaded the Darkhold,” Daisy says, and Robbie could see the realization dawning on her. “So that means-”

 

“Ivanov has memorized the Darkhold,” Imani says grimly. “If we don’t destroy him and his organization, Robbie’s sacrifice in the other dimensions will mean nothing.” 

 

Robbie’s stomach twist at her words. Sure, he’d heard them before, but that didn’t make it any easier.

 

“Fuck,” Daisy sighs into her hands. 

 

“Language, Daisy,” Percy says as a mock reprimand. 

 

“I can’t believe you’re corrupting us like this,” Gabe adds on.

 

The momentary humor breaks the tension, if only for the span of a few laughs.

 

“Daisy, you’ve been trying to take the Watchdogs down for almost two years now; is there anything you can think of that would help us?” Imani says.

 

Something flickers in Daisy’s expression as she says, after a long pause, “Nothing comes to mind.” 

 

_ Another lie _ , Robbie thinks, resolving to ask about it later.

* * *

 

_ The scent of roses has stained Daisy’s clothes as she pulls them back on, aware of the way Eris’ eyes stay on her the whole time. _

 

_ “So, what do you think of my offer, flower?” Eris says.  _

 

_ “I got your ways of contact, I’ll act accordingly,” Daisy replies. _

 

_ “You’re so hard to get, aren’t you?”  _

 

_ “It’s a definite personality trait of mine,” Daisy admits.  _

 

_ Eris’ red lips part, as if she’s about to say something when a harsh knock rattles the hotel door on its hinges.  _

 

_ “Oh dear,” Eris tuts. “I believe those are some unwanted guests of mine.” _

 

_ “Open this door or we’ll blow it open!” a voice shouts from the other side. _

 

_ Daisy and Eris share a look.  _

 

_ “Window?”  _

 

_ “Window.” _

* * *

 

It’s late as Daisy types away on her laptop, weary from the day’s revelations.

 

She plans to go to sleep soon, to put the day behind her, when a gentle knock sounds on her door. The laptop is set aside, and she crosses the room to open it, Robbie standing there. 

 

His intent is written all over his face, and they both know it.

 

“Why’d you lie to them?” he asks, his voice low. There’s no judgment in his gaze, just quiet inquiry, but she can’t meet his eyes anyway and moves towards her things.

 

“You weren’t alone the whole time, and you had to be with someone other than Percy,” he continues when he’s met with silence.“What happened, Daisy?”

 

“I fucked up is what happened,” she says, her voice rough. “I fucked up and someone got hurt because of it. So I tied up my loose ends and kept running.” 

 

“Who got hurt?”

 

“Someone I was supposed to take care of,” she says, still not meeting his eyes as she unzips her duffel bag, shoving her laptop inside. She knows he’s still there, leaning on the doorframe, waiting for her to go on.

 

“What do you want from me, Robbie?” she demands, finally cracking but not turning to face him.

 

“I want to know what went so wrong that you lied to the last remaining member of your team and to Imani,” he answers. “Percy’s covering something or someone up for you and I want to know why you think it’s okay to ask that of them.”

 

“I just told you, and I don’t think it’s okay, I just...I need them to.” 

 

“Daisy.” 

 

“Let’s just say that you should be glad it all didn’t happen when I was checking on Gabe,” she fires back as she whirls around, hating herself for playing that card. “Because it could have, and if it had happened a month or two later-”

 

Her voice cracks and she can barely get out the last words as she says, “You wouldn’t have a brother anymore.” 

 

He stares at her, his face impassive, but he has that same glint in his eye that he does whenever someone implies Gabe’s safety being at risk. 

 

“What happened?” he says.

 

“It doesn’t matter.”

 

“You can’t mention my brother and someone dying in the same sentence and then say it doesn’t matter,” he says, and his tone has a sharp edge to it.

 

“I trusted the wrong person, and someone paid the price, Robbie. That’s all there is to it, and that’s why I didn’t travel with anyone after that. But if I say that to the others, then you and Imani and Yo-Yo and Gabe will all want to know what happened and I can’t-I can’t talk about it.” 

 

She runs a hand through her hair. “I can’t stay here, either, not for much longer,” she goes on, “I don’t care how safe Imani says it is, I’m not risking a damn thing because I can’t let something like that happen again.”

 

“Let us help you, Daisy-”

 

“Don’t you get it? I can’t. I can’t do this all over again.” There are tears now, and she hates herself for every one that falls. “I can’t lose anyone else, not you or Gabe or Yo-Yo or  _ anybody,  _ because if I do-” She stops, unable to say another word, because if she does, she’s going to lose her hold on whatever semblance of sanity she has left. She sinks down onto her bed, hands shaking as she buries her face in them. 

 

Robbie’s shoes sound on the wooden floor as he moves from his post at the door frame, and she can feel the mattress dip a little further as he sits down next to her. 

 

“Hey,” he says softly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, “Look at me, Daisy.”

 

She slowly raises her head, Robbie’s gloved hand gentle against her skin as she forced herself to meet his eyes. 

 

She may not know a lot of things, but she doesn’t need Imani’s abilities to see the genuine care in the way he looks at her, and it clenches her heart in a vise because she doesn’t deserve Robbie Reyes, of all people, looking at her like that. 

 

“You’re not gonna lose me, or Gabe, or anyone else,” he says, and it sounds like a vow. “I’m always going to have your back, okay?” He sounds like there’s more to be said, but if there is, he doesn’t say it; instead, he lets her bury her face in his chest and cry, and maybe, Daisy thinks with Robbie murmuring reassurances into her hair, that’s for the best, for now.

* * *

 

_ “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Eris says furiously at the sight of her car, windows shattered and tires slashed. She kicks at the dented bumper, a stormy look in her eyes. _

 

_ Thinking fast, Daisy says, “Come on, I’ve got a van a block away.” _

 

_ “You really think we can make it that far?” Eris sputters. “Unless you’re the next Usain Bolt, this could be the end of the line for us, flower.” _

 

_ “Who said anything about running?” Daisy says, grinning. “You’ll want to hold onto me though.”  _

 

_ “You say that as if I don’t already,” Eris laughs.  _

 

_ That’s how they escape this time, with Daisy quaking into the air and jumping across rooftops, wondering how she’s going to explain the bombshell to Percy, but she’ll have to cross that bridge when she gets to it. _

 

_ But there’s no outrunning fate, and maybe if anyone had known what fate would bring, Daisy would’ve left Eris in the parking garage to her own devices. _

 

_ But no one did, and so led to a fateful, fatal mistake. _

**Author's Note:**

> Comment/kudos, please!


End file.
